A Silent Spectator
by Alucino
Summary: She had always been a silent spectator of the world around her. It had been her escape and way to endure. - Just a bit of Kelly musing, set sometime in the beginning of season 1, or maybe even before that.


**I know that not everyone is too fond of first-person POV-stories, but here's yet another one. Will probably be my last one in awhile though. Oh, and this time I tried doing it from Kelly's POV. Feels like I didn't really managed to portray what I wanted to say with the story though, but by now I just wanted to get it out of the way so I've left it as it is and hope it works.**

**I hope you'll enjoy =)**

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><p><strong>A Silent Spectator<strong>

I don't know where it came from but it hit me from out of the blue.

A big and wet smack on the side of my arm - alongside a shower of sand and cold water on my body and face.

I jerk in surprise and sit up, my eyes opening instinctively despite the bright sunlight reaching them. Bewildered, and my mind still drifted off in thoughts, I look around to orientate myself of what have just have happened.

The big yellow plastic ball laying between me and Sabrina, the nervous-looking boy hurrying over to us, quickly clarifies the situation. I have just been hit by a ball accidentally thrown in my direction. With the amount of balls and Frisbees flying around us at the overpopulated beach, that was bound to happen sooner or later.

Automatically I reach over to gather the ball just as the boy reaches us. Nervously he rambles out a tirade of excuses and wanting nothing more than for him to look a bit less guilty I try to reassure him that there is no harm done. It was just a simple mistake; he shouldn't at all have to feel so bad. But despite my efforts he continues to look utterly miserable and it breaks my heart just a little bit. I offer him a friendly smile as I hand him the ball, in a last hope to tell him that there really is no need to feel so sorry.

Shyly he thanks me and apologizes once more before running back to his friends and then, finally, he looks more relaxed. I smile, but instead of going back to my own meaningless thoughts that previously occupied my mind I let my eyes linger on them.

And as I watch them play, I somehow feel fascinated of the simplicity of it all. How cheerful and unconcerned they seem to be just by a simple game, of just enjoying each others company. I even notice how I smile blissfully for myself at the sight.

But letting them enjoy their game in private I leave them be and instead I look over at Sabrina.

She is still sound asleep next to me on the blanket. She hasn't noticed the previous commotion, and she still doesn't seem to have noticed the sand from the ball that is now sprinkled all over her sleeping form.

Again I smile, as I then shake my head in wonder over her ability to sleep through anything. I hardly sleep at night, but I think Sabrina only has to close her eyes before drifting off. And looking at her now, I am again struck by how completely different she looks asleep from when she is awake.

I don't think she would realize it herself, but there really is a pleasant peacefulness about her when she is asleep that I don't think I have ever seen when she is awake. Because then she is always bustling with energy. Not that bubbling energy like Jill seems to possess, but instead a restlessness to always do something. Or at least having something to plan or think about. That's what it looks like anyway, because she never just sits still just for the sake of taking it easy. And when she does, it always looks as if she wants to jump back up again and do something.

But now, she is totally calm. Peaceful.

Her chest rising and sinking steadily, her eyes fluttering behind the close eyelids, and her muscles and, what I can imagine, her mind completely relaxed.

I smile when she then mumbles something incoherent in her sleep, almost as if subconsciously telling me to stop watching her.

Because I know she would hate it if she knew I was watching her like this. When she is awake she might like being in the centre, but like this, when she isn't aware and can't talk back? Never.

Complying with her unvoiced request, I look away, and instead I look up to the house in search for Jill, wondering what has become of her. She left our spot on the beach well over ten minutes to get us some drinks and should be back by now.

As my eyes reach the house I quickly realize the reasons why she hasn't.

She is standing by the foot of the stairs, cheerfully chatting with a good-looking lifeguard. Despite looking somewhat overloaded with the tray of glasses she has in her hands, the stack of magazines under her arm and the volleyball hanging in a net bag by her other, she is still smiling widely and chatting cheerfully; looking completely unconcerned. Her bubbling and carefree energy almost reaches me, sitting two hundred feet away.

But then I roll my eyes as I hear her laughing that high-pitched laugh I know she has a tendency to do as a way of flirting. Although feeling quite certain she wouldn't mind the attention even at this moment, I turn my eyes away.

Instead I look out over the beach and all the people there, not at all surprised over the crowd. Even if it is late in the day and far from as hot as it had been midday, it is still one of the hottest days of the season and I think everyone must have flocked to the beach for a swim and the ocean breeze. And somehow the variations in the people intrigue me and I find how my eyes wander between them; studying them and their actions like I was watching a movie.

And as I sit here, watching the people all living their own individual lives, I find myself thinking back to when I was still just a girl. Then I would have loved this. Then I would have loved the opportunity to study my surroundings on a distance like I have now; watching people buzzing about, talk, laugh and just interact with each other.

Without really being prepare for it I feel a lump in my throat as unexpected memories from my childhood come rushing over me. But instead of letting the bad memories claim their stakes in my mind I instead turn my focus to the other sides of my recollections; when I'd watched. When I'd escaped.

I know it was mostly bad, but then I didn't watch. Then I just tried to endure, blocking it from my sight. It was the beautiful, the happy things I studied, letting them come to life inside of me, bringing some of that joy to myself.

Despite the pain that unavoidably comes along the memories, I smile.

I remember when I was in the orphanage I used to climb up to that window high above my small bed, and from there, curled up in the window frame, watch the nuns in the abbey below as they silently walked across the courtyard to vespers. They didn't necessarily look happy but there was a beautiful peacefulness about them and the way they almost floated across the big stone ground that I somehow found fascinating. I remember that I could sit there for hours, just watching – or at least until one of the matrons found me, interrupting my dream world and dragged me down. I guess that was why I later particularly appreciated that crammed and abandoned room I found in the orphanage's attic where I created a sanctuary for myself. I can't really remember how I found my way up there, but I know that whenever I wanted to get away or had to hide out from Beamish or one of the other sadistic matrons, I sneaked away to that dusty and dark little room no one even seemed to know existed. And from there I could see above the walls of the orphanage and all the way to the main plaza where it was always buzzing with people.

Again I smile. It had really been quite the adventure.

And even if the people were too far away to actually get a closer look at, I could sense in their movements and interaction with each other that they were smiling.

Or I just imagined that they did. That worked just as well.

Then later, when I was shuffled around to different foster homes it had in a way been easier. Or at least it offered more to watch; more possibilities. Whenever I got the chance, I used to sneak away from the house that at the time was my home to find myself a lonely park bench in a busy park or square, just to study the people walking by around me. The first time was like Christmas. There was so much to watch, so many things to absorb and be intrigued about. And over the years I continued the procedure. It was always under different circumstances, in different places and on a different lonely park bench, but it was always the same observation of those happy people. And I was always that same girl just wanting to get away, longing to get a glimpse of that life on the other side.

Sometimes I remember that I felt bad for intruding on someone else's happiness, stealing from it, using it as my own, but mostly I just let it fill me without regrets. I think I had to, to be able to endure. From the blows as well as the neglect.

I feel my chest tighten slightly, again unable to hide entirely from the pain the memories bring me, and as on cue I look out; wanting the happiness from the people out on the beach to brush off on me.

My eyes falls on the big group of people sitting by several outspread blankets just a bit away from us. Despite their diversity in age and appearances many bear a striking resemblance and I conclude they must be family in some way. Maybe it's the old man sitting with a toddler in his lap who is the family father, and the grey-haired woman, talking to what could be a younger version of herself, who is the family mother. The other older man there could be a brother. And the younger men and women, the teenagers and the children that are sitting spread out around them, all laughing and talking; their children and grandchildren. And maybe they have now all come together for a family reunion. Maybe they're doing it every year as a tradition; the daughters and sons, normally spread out across the country living with their own families, all coming back for this one weekend to meet up with the rest. To talk, laugh and just spend time together.

I pull my legs closer to me, encircling my arms around my knees, feeling a welcomed happiness permeate my body.

I know I'm just fantasising, making it what I want it to be and that it might not at all be anything like I imagine. Maybe they're not a family or it is a not a reunion, or maybe they don't even care too much about each other. Maybe it's all just a façade. But it doesn't really matter. In my mind they are happy.

I turn my focus back to them as one of the younger couples stand up and gather a box that is standing a bit on the side. They pick it up and bring it over to the rest of the group who have all become a bit less silent and a little bit more focused on the young couple and the box. First a bit tentatively, and then with playful grins on their faces, the couple open the box. The people closest to them lean over and look inside, and before I know it they all burst out in fit of blissful laughter.

I find myself smiling along – I might even have to suppress a small laughter of my own – as if I know what they're laughing about; as if I'm apart of their group.

I am startled, although not disappointed, when I hear Sabrina's voice entering my dream world.

"Whaddya doin'?" it says.

I turn and look at my friend.

The sign of sleep is still lingering in her tired eyes, but now she has pulled herself up on her elbows and she looks at me curiously.

I smile and somehow it feels like she, Jill, still standing by her house, is both apart of the vivid and happy image in my mind.

I shook my head to come back to reality. "Nothing," I say to further pull myself out, but I don't know how well I succeeded when I can still feel that blissful smile in my face. "Just- sitting here, watching."

She looks at me like I've gone mad, but still I can't wipe away my smile.

She raises her eyebrows in puzzlement. "Eh- ok."

But then she apparently leaves it be and instead looks around in search of our blonde friend.

"Where's Jill?"

"She went up to get us some drinks," I answer. "But she got a bit sidetracked," I then wink and nod up towards the house.

Sabrina follows my gaze and doesn't seem to be able to suppress the laughter that bubbles out of her when she sees Jill and the bodyguard. "God-," she rolls her eyes, "she's unbelievable."

She lies back on the blanket and closes her eyes.

"Tell her she's a disturbance to the beach safety when she comes will ya'," she then mumbles, and I can practically see how she drifts off to sleep again.

I let my eyes linger on her for awhile, watching her features slowly relax; fully aware I am becoming the audience again. I glance up to Jill as well for a moment, watching her flirt brashly, before then gazing out at the horizon.

Of some reason I suddenly feel particularly content.

Of just sitting here; being here. On the beach, buzzing with happy people, on a beautiful day. Without nothing really to do, no real problems or concerns to think about.

Where I can just- be.

Although in the back of my mind I know it has more to do with my friends than with anything else. That I'm not sitting here on my own but have both of my best friends – my only friends really – just close by.

It feels strange though, the way they affect me. That I feel so at ease of just having them around, and I can't help not to wonder when that all must have started.

Although, I quickly realize, I really don't have to wonder.

It all started that day when I first met them, that day I still remember so very clearly.

It was at the police academy, the day I first joined. Because of some mix-up I had joined a week late and all of the other recruits, including Sabrina and Jill, were there already, already settled in and accustomed to things and each other. I arrived early in the morning and had to cross the dining area just as they were about to have breakfast. The room was noisy and busy; people talking and laughing with each other. Somehow I didn't found the atmosphere uplifting or pleasant, but quite intimidating. Quickly I walked across the room, but my eyes were just as quick, scanning over the room and reading the people; interpreting the surroundings that would all be part of my life for the following year.

Sabrina was the one that I noticed first. She was simply not very hard to miss.

She was loudly arguing with a large-built man and I remember being intrigued by her right there. I don't really know why; maybe I was impressed by the self-confidence she radiated that I know I lacked. I don't even know what they argued about, but I remember feeling pleased when she then turned around with a wide victorious grin and poked Jill playfully by her elbow. In return Jill flashed the most joyous smile I ever saw.

They looked so blissfully happy that I know I already was enthralled.

Later that evening when I was sitting alone in the dining room they sat down next me, and without being the slightest timid they started talking to me, almost like I was a part of their lives and their happiness. Just like that.

I was startled by their unabashed demeanours to say the least. And I was reserved and on my guard. Because I was used to being a spectator. Not a participant. But of some reason they stayed, trying to include me.

And it was after that it all started to feel so unreal. That things started changing.

Thinking back at it now, it almost feels as if the many years before that moment were all in a different lifetime. Or that these last few years have just been a dream that I will soon wake up from and that it's not really me living my life but someone else, and I am just looking in.

Sometimes I even find myself taken aback when I realize it actually is me doing all those things, those normal things I before have only watched other people doing. That it is me that is laughing and chatting happily with friends; it is me celebrating Christmas and Thanksgiving in the warmth of a loving family's home; and that it is me that is that confident woman with a smile on her lips.

But before being able to think of it any further I hear Jill's voice somewhere in the distance.

"What's with her?"

I turn my head towards the sound and see Jill, still overloaded with her things, standing next to Sabrina, who is now fully awake sitting up.

She nods her head in my direction and looks at Sabrina before handing her the tray of drinks so she can sit down.

Putting down the tray on the blanket, Sabrina looks at me and shrugs. "You tell me. She's been like this basically since you left."

Confused what they're talking about, and why they're talking about me like I'm not here, I am left just staring at them.

But then Jill's head snaps, her blue eyes widening and she look at me with a mixture of concern and disappointment. "Kell, you're not getting sunstroke are you? Or getting sick or anything?"

Before I can stop her she has practically thrown herself over me and has a hand on my forehead. "Please tell me you're not! I've planned for the party tonight for ages. Even my baby sis is gonna come!"

I laugh and swat away her hand. "No, I'm not sick."

She sinks down on the blanket next to Sabrina. "So what's wrong?"

I look at her confused, and then at Sabrina; both looking at me with strange frowns on their faces.

"There's nothing wrong." Puzzled my eyes dart between the two of them. "Why would there be?"

"Oh I don't know-," Jill shrugs as if not really knowing where to start. "Maybe because you're sitting like a happy little kid staring out the beach, not even hearing us when were talking to you."

"And don't forget that ridiculous-looking grin she has plastered on her face," Sabrina adds and looks at me over the rim of glass she has just claimed as hers.

I'm surprised how I feel myself blush, and as if they have just said something amazing I can't stop a wide smile from spreading in my face.

"See!" Jill hurriedly swallows the big gulp she has just taken of her drink before she points at me. "There it is again."

Abruptly she puts down the glass in the sand and looks at me gravely. "Ok Kelly, you have to tell us what's going on."

I can't help but laugh at their groundless antics. "There's nothing going on. I'm just enjoying the beach, that's all."

Jill rolls her eyes. "Yeah right. Like the beach could be that interesting."

I frown hopelessly, and turn to Sabrina in the hopes she can be on my side in this. But I am only met by her most sceptical eyes.

"Come on Kell, tell us," she says matter-of-factly as also she put down her glass.

Again I laugh, and am frankly starting to get more than just a little confused by this whole thing. "What? There's nothing to tell!"

Again Jill rolls her eyes in disbelief, and Sabrina raising her eyebrows is portraying similar feelings.

"Alright Kell," Jill then says with an admissive sigh and lies down and closes her eyes. "I'll drop it for now. But tonight you're telling us."

As if she can't help not to, Sabrina smiles and looks at me. "You know she will make you, right?"

Hopelessly I look back at her, knowing she is right. Even though there really is nothing to tell, Jill will still not let this – whatever this is – go.

Sabrina raises her eyebrows meaningly, before she takes another sip of her drink and lies back down.

Of some reason feeling stunned, I sit motionless.

The boy with the yellow ball is still playing with his friends. The big family sitting next to us are still laughing together. But they are all far off in the distance.

I look down at my two friends lying next to each other, still with lingering smiles on their faces, and then out at the distant crowd.

That's when it hits me.

I don't need to watch anymore. I don't need to be a silent audience any longer, letting other people's joy just brush of on me. Because I might not know how, or even why, but I'm pretty sure that somewhere along the way Sabrina and Jill must have let me into the real thing.

Because this is not watching. This is living.

I smile.

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><p><strong>As always I would love to hear whatever opinions you may have, so please review! =)<strong>


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